vampchronfic:

i-want-my-iwtv:

vampchronfic:

Pretty sure this is the view Lestat had just as Daniel drove across the bridge in that Mustang.

# love the idea that Lestat was chilling on top of this bridge

# caught the image in Daniel’s mind of Louis

# and started hot pursuit

# and waited in that car

# until the interview was over

# yes

# just for the movie!verse bc we all know Lestat found out about Louis after the book came out

# Definitely Movie!verse

#But I really like this scene,

# Wish it could somehow be shoe-horned into canon.

# Oh, wait! Fanfic!

# AGREES AGGRESSIVELY

  • Lestat and Louis KISSING
  • FOR THE FIRST TIME
  • Lestat giving tender soft kisses at first
  • as to not spook Louis, to ease him in gently
  • but then Lestat just LICKS LOUIS’S LIPS AND 
  • LOUIS GASPS IN SURPRISE AND LESTAT TAKES ADVANTAGE OF LOUIS’S OPEN MOUTH
  • AND LICKS HIS WAY INSIDE, NO SHAME
  • AND LOUIS IS SO SHOCKED HE GROANS AND THEN
  • SO DOES LESTAT AND ITS SO DEEP IT VIBRATES AND 
  • (♥ω♥*) ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧ ℒℴѵℯ ✧♡✧*¨*•.❥

[repurposed this bc of reasons]

In Blackwood Farm, Lestat says his name is “compounded of the first letter of each of my six older brothers’ names.” Is that true? Whose brilliant idea was that? Were you that disinterested in choosing an actual name for him?

viaticumforthemarquise:

-sighs-

This is a falsehood. 

When he was very young, his brothers (not known for their kindness), told him this story. They made it quite clear to him that his parents, having no love left for him after six children, took the laziest route possible in naming him. 

This is, of course, an utter lie. I’ve already told the story here of Lestat’s naming—and I’ve also explained this to him many times (he tends to accept this story as a part of his own mythology, unfortunately). 

He does, from time to time, need reminding that his name, just like my love for him, was not accidental in nature. He is, and ever will be, my Lestat. Thus I named him, and thus I keep him. 

And his brothers are dead. So there’s that. 

(he tends to accept this story as a part of his own mythology, unfortunately).He picks and chooses his own mythology, for SURE.

“What an unusual name, Lestat,” she returned. “Does it have a meaning?”

“None whatsoever, Madam,” Lestat answered. “If memory serves me right, and it does less and less, the name’s compounded of the first letter of each of my six older brothers’ names, all of whom – the brothers and their names – I grew up to cheerfully and vigorously despise.”

– The vampire Lestat, Blackwood Farm

So he must have known all his brothers before they died ;A;

Discussing this with viaticumforthemarquise… maybe Augustin (or one of Lestat’s brothers) told him that just to hurt his feelings, like “YOU ARE SO WORTHLESS THAT AT BIRTH OUR PARENTS COULD ONLY MUSTER THE CREATIVITY TO TAKE A LETTER FROM EACH OF OUR NAMES” *SLAPS*

Lestat: *screaming internally*

They told him this at a young age … and he never questioned it.

My Scholar, My Victim, My Love

gorgeous-fiend:

There is a peculiar  irony that the healthiest and brightest relationship I have ever had has been wrought from quite possibly my most despicable act of depravity to date. I do not dwell much on it- possibly out of some sort of suppressed shame, but most likely because I simply do not see the point.  Of course, I am  thankful and quite frankly astounded things  turned out as well they did, as I  fully expected David to hate me from now to eternity- whenever that may be for him.

What surprises me  even more is  how willing I was  to grant David his autonomy. And how easy it was.  Almost immediately after our short-lived holiday to Rio de Janeiro, we had parted ways. It had not been sad at all. We  did not leave each other on bad terms, quite the opposite it fact. Instead, we left with a profound understanding of one another and a camaraderie I confess to have never known. Even among my brothers in the Auvergne I had not felt such kinship. Especially not among my brothers.  And had it ever been so simple with the others? Absolutely not.

Nicolas had been a mistake, I am willing to admit it now after so many years, hailed into the blood by his maker’s blindness and foolhardy sense of justice.  Despite the love between us there will forever be a rift between myself and Gabrielle that will never fully satisfy and will always drive us away from one another. And I had all but strangled Louis and Claudia in my fear and desperation for love. But David- my scholar, my victim, my love- saw me and accepted  me. Knew me  for the monster I was and still loved me. Even when  my betrayal sucked him down to the pits of darkness, David’s devotion outweighed his anger. I should be ashamed of myself, but I am not. I would do it to him one thousand times over.

Selfies

viaticumforthemarquise:

Her favourite gift that Lestat had given her was not, as he might hope, the cellular mobile phone with which she might communicate with him. She carried that little device purely so that he would not rail at her upon her infrequent returns to him. 

No, it was instead the gift he’d give to her for her birthday (or was it Christmas?) in 2012: the Olympus OM-D camera. 

With this she had begun to document her travels, to capture images of parts of the world no mortal had ever seen. She took photo after photo, enchanted by the way in which the camera could capture light, even in darkness, and by its ability to also capture her own visage and form at play within her locales. 

Perhaps it was a boon to Lestat, too—she sent him emails and books filled with photos now—not often, no, but enough that her communication with him became what he might even call constant.

Sometimes she might send a photograph of herself behind the curtain of a waterfall, taken carefully at night with the use of the quick shutter and the artful little timer. Sometimes it was the animals she encountered in the canopies of trees. 

But her favourite way to tease him was to send images taken with the camera in hand, turned towards herself, whatever location she’d found herself in behind her. She might, if he was lucky, offer a small smile. He had told her that these were called “selfies,” in this modern day, a type of self-portrait. Though she failed to see the allure, she knew it tickled him to receive them. 

Value Me (//I hope I’m not too late for this)

thegingerhairedimmortal:

What do I think about you?  Where do I even begin?

You are the savior of our kind, the one who ensured our continued salvation and our new Queen.  My life and that of my fledgling are in your debt. 

You are one of the oldest, one of the few to have managed our extended existence without a break, without going to ground.  You have my admiration and I wish to learn how you have done such a thing.

You walk the line between your mortal family who you love and your immortality.  I can only hope to learn the secret to how you love so deeply yet are able to let go.

You have suffered much pain and loss and yet you continue to be positive and loving.  I want to be more like you.

Our hair may be similar but the rest of our beings are so very different.  The world needs more people like you and less people like me.  I want to be your apprentice, to follow you through the world and maybe, someday become as admired, as strong, and as loving as you.  My Queen.

The world needs more people like you and less people like me. ;A;

☜ – when your character sees themselves in the mirror, what do they see? how do they see themselves

viaticumforthemarquise:

I typically do not live anywhere where I have access to mirrors, nor do I go to any extreme to attempt to see my reflection. 

But, the world being what it is, I am once in a while in a position to catch a glimpse of myself in the glass. 

What do I see?

I see what I am sure many others see: a woman, older but of indeterminate age (the dark gift altered the ability to see me for the age I was when I died, though it is obvious that I am not as young as many of the others), with a mass of blonde hair, with blue (sometimes violet, sometimes grey) eyes, and small, kittenish (to borrow Lestat’s words) features. 

I see my brother’s hair.  

I see my father’s chin. 

I see my mother’s fine cheekbones. 

I see my son. Always. 

I see my daughter. 

And then I pass on. 

;A; we all know that 8th child was a daughter!

  • “I was the seventh son and the youngest of the three who had lived to manhood” = there were 7 sons
  • “And now, after eight children, three living, five dead," 

That 8th child could have been a daughter. What are the odds for it being another son?

How would you have felt if you had a child with akasha?

eternalpharaoh:

Proud. I would have been proud, and I would have seen to it that there were more to follow. As desperately as she tried for an heir in our living years, as much as it wounded her heart and my pride to have nothing come of our efforts, I would have been relieved and overjoyed. Even if that child lived a mortal’s years and knew Anubis…were they alive and against me, I would still be proud. 

#RIGHT IN THE FEELS #damn you and your perfect headcanon perfection

A misconception may be that people thinks he’s a hopeless emo.

merciful-death:

Send me a misconception you think people have about my character and I'll explain if it's true or not

ooc; OH YES I’M GLAD SOMEONE SENT ME THIS ONE.  To be honest, I feel like the super-whiny emo misconception stems partially from the movie?  Because as much as I love the IwtV movie, I feel like there were some key things missing with him (which is honestly understandable with a movie adaption of a book).

The thing about Louis is that he actually doesn’t hate himself.  Louis has an immense ego, which is something he himself spoke of in Interview with the Vampire.  He’s such an immense perfectionist, I feel, that he doesn’t always know how to cope with his own failures.  He falls into self-loathing because he honestly can’t deal with imperfections within himself.  But even in his times of “brooding,” his ego still rears its head.  He believed that he wanted to die in 1791, but could never let it happen.  His ego wouldn’t allow it.

As a mortal man, Lestat “crushed his ego,” but once they were on an equal playing field as vampires, he began to see him differently and within his first night as an immortal, felt he was superior to Lestat.  His feeding on rats was just as much a battle of pride as it was his sentimental feelings for humans.

Lestat and himself constantly get into these little ego battles, with the rats, with the Frenieres, with Claudia, with Lestat’s choices of victims, with Lestat’s every rash decision later on.  Like, Louis definitely isn’t a pushover.  One of the reasons Lestat made him was to be his “conscience,” and he certainly has to be an equal to serve that role.

Louis does go through periods where he just lets himself become apathetic and drift, but he never lets himself fade away and disappear.  Which I think is partially his ego and partially that he waits for Lestat to revitalize him like he’s fucking Sleeping Beauty and Lestat is Prince Charming.  Honestly, they both need each other so much.

I think the fact that Louis has never went to ground is a testament to his strength.  And even when Lestat’s losing it, he generally remains sane and by his side until a point comes that he just can’t anymore and has to leave.  Because Louis is very self-serving and capable of loving Lestat from a distance while Lestat’s doing something loony like Rowan fucking Mayfair.

99% of the time that Louis’ sitting around appearing emo, he’s just beating himself up for doing something wrong because~~~perfectionist first-born son.

Am I turning into a merciful-death reblogging blog? I’m sorry. It’s just that I agree with it so much and I can’t help but want to s h a r e.